


Time In New Hampshire

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Some Sex, X-Files A Map of Us: 50 States of Sex Challenge, some banter, surprise vacations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 19:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17586962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Mulder and Scully spend some time in New Hampshire - and not for the reason Scully thought.





	Time In New Hampshire

“I can see the question in your eyes, Scully. Come on, ask me.” Mulder stands in their temporary home, a hotel room in the currently very snowy state of New Hampshire. He doesn’t look at all like an FBI agent who is upset that they’re snowed in and unable to reach their final destination where they should be working on a case.

Point one that makes her wonder.

“If you know what I’m going to say, why don’t you say it?” Scully taunts him. He lets go of their bags and they land on the ground with a soft thud. The carpet is thick and soft; not at all like the cheap stuff they find in the motels they usually stay at when they travel for work.

That’s point two.

“Mulder, what are we doing here?” He mimics her in a high voice. His hands are on his hips and he bats his eyes at her in a cheap imitation of herself. When he rolls his eyes for effect he looks like he’s having a seizure. “That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?” His cute grin saves him. It’s been saving him for years.

“So?”

“So what?” He throws himself onto the bed. A big, nice and comfortable looking bed. Scully eyes it – and him – suspiciously. Something isn’t right here and she can’t put her finger on it.

“What are we doing here? There’s a case you should be worried about.” He folds his hands behind his head, still grinning from ear to ear. As cute as he is, she wants to strangle him.

“Have you ever lived in New Hampshire, Scully?” The change of subject catches her off guard. Mulder jumps to his feet and stands by the window, smiling at the winter wonderland right in front of their eyes.

“Hm, no,” she answers, joining him at the window. The trees and mountains in the distance are snow-covered and picturesque. It’s beautiful here. They’ve never had a view like this before; the windows they encounter tend to be small rectangular openings in the wall, dirty and gritty – if they have windows at all. This room, this hotel, is not like anything they’ve ever stayed in before. 

“We could go skiing,” Mulder says, distracting her from her thoughts.

“No, Mulder.”

“But we’re snowed in! What fun is snow if you’re not outside, getting wet?”

“You’re also getting cold.”

“I bet I can make you wet right here in this room, no need to go outside at all.” He grins and winks at her, so damn proud of his joke. She slaps him, but only to cover up her blush. She’s still not used to this new intimacy; years of innuendo should have prepared her, but now she knows his jokes weren’t just empty promises.

“We’re working, Mulder.” It’s an excuse she uses often, a mere matter of self-preservation. One of them has to be the voice of reason and it’s her. Mulder has never cared for rules. He just grins and does whatever he wants. His recklessness is part of his charm, one of the things that drew her to him. He knows it, too. Mulder is still grinning, so very sure of himself. She’s not going to give in just yet. He’s right of course. He can make her wet; he does so all the time. It doesn’t matter where they are. A hotel room, the office, or even – and Scully is not proud to admit it – when they attended church together the other weekend. She is still blushing thinking about it now.

“There’s no work, Scully. Only snow.”

“We came here for a case, didn’t we? That puts us on the Bureau’s dime and we decided to be professional at work.” She decided that. Again, Mulder couldn’t have cared less. He almost made her not care, too, when they talked about it mere hours after consummating seven years of longing looks and tentative steps around each other. She shakes her head slightly, not wanting to lose herself in the memory of post-coital bliss. Her own thoughts are so conflicting that she almost misses Mulder’s peculiar look. The feeling that there’s something he’s not telling her returns full force. “There is a case here, right? You said ghosts were haunting some-”

“Apparitions, Scully,” he cuts her off, walking away from her.

“Where is the case file? I don’t think I-”

“There’s no case file,” Mulder admits, his smile still present, but now with a sheepish gleam.

“Mulder, are you saying there’s no case here? That this is a… vacation? One that the FBI is paying for?” It all falls into place. The flimsy excuse about the snow. The exclusive hotel room. Mulder asking her to pack warm clothes. How could she not have seen this coming?

“Surprise,” Mulder says, daring a few steps back into her direction.

“Mulder,” she whines, not sure whether she should be happy or angry or both. “Why didn’t you just ask me if I wanted to come here for a vacation?” She would have packed less business attire. Maybe more lingerie. Her question takes all the confidence out of him. Gone is his cocky grin, his giddiness. He runs his hand through his hair, looking everywhere but at her.

“We can go home if you hate it.”

“That’s not… Mulder, tell me one thing: is the FBI paying for this trip?”

“Not exactly.”

“Explain.”

“I’m paying for it, but uhm, Skinner thinks we’re here on official business.” Oh Mulder. She should be angry. She really should be. Why can they never do anything like a normal couple? Yet she finds herself smiling. Mulder licks his lips, still uncertain of what she’s going to do next, whether she’s saying they’re going home. She considers letting him stew a moment longer, but if she’s honest she doesn’t want to waste another moment of their vacation. A vacation. She turns to look outside again, seeing the snow with different eyes.

“This is a beautiful surprise, Mulder.” Her words surprise him, too. She takes a few steps forward and puts his arms around him. He relaxes visibly and hugs her back, puts his chin on her head. “But next time you tell me.”

“Hm,” he mumbles into her hair and it’s not enough.

“Mulder.”

“I promise no more surprise vacations.”

“Good, and Mulder? You’re paying for this.”

He shudders against her and it takes her a moment to realize he’s laughing.

But he’s not laughing for long.

Scully pushes out of their hug before she grabs a fistful of his shirt to draw him closer. She’s still wearing her heels, giving her the few extra inches she needs to kiss him without breaking his neck. Or hers. They’re good at this, so very good. Scully always wondered if they would be. One of the many reasons she kept reiterating to stop herself from doing exactly this: grabbing him and kissing him silly. He is saying something against her lips, right onto her tongue. She tastes the words, giggles. Fuck. Me. Either an imperative or a mere exclamation of how fantastic this feels. She agrees, on both accounts.

“Bed,” she kisses against his lips, his tongue moving against hers.

“Hmm, no,” he says, his lips moving to her neck, kissing her pulse that’s thumping there. “Here,” he finishes somewhere around her clavicle; she’s already forgotten what they’ve been talking about.

“Here?” She’s losing herself in him, in the feelings he’s eliciting. He’s leaving tiny tattoos all over her body, everywhere his lips touch her.

“Right here,” he answers, pressing her against the window. The cold seeps through her blouse, startling her, clearing her head. Her heart beats too quickly and she wonders, just briefly, whether he can hear it. His expression is pure lust. It drips from his eyes, lands on her lips and makes her shiver, makes her hungry. Right here, he said. She looks at him, forgets the cold, forgets that someone might see them. She nods, she thinks, but she isn’t certain because Mulder’s lips capture hers again and she succumbs to feelings. His hands roam over her body, open a button here and there and touch her skin. The cold of the window is no longer of importance; neither is the winter raging on the other side. There’s only heat. There’s only Mulder.

His lips travel over her skin and leave goose bumps all over. He sucks the area right over her breast, knowing how desperate it makes her. So close to where she really wants him and yet so far away. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she pants, feeling breathless. She gently tries to steer him further down where her nipples strain for attention. Mulder, as always, does what he does best and doesn’t listen, follows his own rhythm and rhyme. He sucks on her skin and she’s losing her mind, her legs shaking. They’ve hardly begun. Her nails dig into his scalp and he groans against her, but doesn’t let go. He’s going to mark her, leave a love tattoo on her skin; he’s already taken her heart, her soul, her mind. He can have this, too.

She moans as his mouth finally, finally closes around a lace-clad nipple. He groans as her nails dig deeper into his skin. She can’t stop, won’t stop; it’s his own fault for being so good at driving her crazy. His hands, warm and soothing, free her breasts from their confines, her bra pushed aside, and his hot, demanding mouth is back. She squeezes her eyes shut and holds on to him; it’s all she can do. He moves on, his lips trailing a path they know well. She feels him smile against her skin as she sighs.

“This has to go,” Mulder says as if to himself, opening the button of her pants. The zipper comes down agonizingly slow. Her eyes still squeezed shut she’s waiting. For him to free her, to touch her. With his hand, with his mouth, she doesn’t care.

“Mulder,” she mumbles, her voice no more than a desperate plea. He kisses her right above the waistband of her panties and she shudders. She knows what’s going to happen. This is not the first time, not the second nor the third. How can he still make her feel like this, like it’s new? Her hands are on his shoulders and she waits as he gently takes her panties off. He breathes her in and before she has time to feel awkward, his mouth is on her. His strong hands hold her thighs and she needs him to because her legs feel like jello, like they’re going to give out right here, right now. She can’t think of anything, her mind deliciously empty, and it’s because of Mulder. His tongue. It dips inside and she moans. She will never get used to it. She doesn’t want to, ever.

One time, early on in this new physical relationship, Mulder joked that he’d make a map of her vagina. Pussy plan, he called it, giggling like a school boy. She laughed, too, feeling freer than she ever had. She thinks of that now, her senses strung tight. The way his tongue moves around her labia, the way it grazes her clit, he knows his way. He knows it well. He groans against her, his tongue harsh, as she digs his fingers into his head. She needs him closer, needs him faster. She just needs him.

“Mulder, please,” she begs. She doesn’t want to beg, but she needs to come. She needs to let go. Mulder gets to work, stabs his tongue inside her wet tunnel and she’s losing it, losing it, but she can’t come, she can’t. Not until his tongue circles her clit again and then she trembles and comes loose. Her legs vibrate with the intensity of her orgasm and she pants, her fingers curled into his hair. Mulder kisses her mons before he sits on the heels of his feet, his erection straining against the denim. He’s grinning, licking his lips. He hums.

“You’re welcome,” he says with a wink. She’d slap him if she had any strength left. “This was course one.”

“There’s more?” she teases, curling her finger and indicating for him to get up. She helps him out of his shirt and touches his warm chest. She kisses his nipples as her fingers search blindly for his erection. His heart starts pounding as she cups him and she smiles against him. Two can play at this game.

“Scully, I’m already- I can’t do much more foreplay. Not if you want to experience the main event.” She puts her chin on his chest and looks up at him.

“How do you want me?” she asks, her voice low. She steps away, her open blouse framing her body. Mulder gazes shamelessly. His penis throbs and twitches, just from looking at her.

“The window,” he croaks. “I want you against the window.” She shivers and nods. Hopes that her legs won’t give out. She turns around, her naked front against the glass. Her nipples pucker as goose bumps break out like a second skin. Anyone could see them. Anyone. She’s never been this aroused.

“Mulder,” she whimpers and hopes he understands her plea. He does. He’s there, his pants gone, and it’s just his heat. His fingers travel over her skin, right under her breasts to her hips. He grabs her roughly and she gasps. His hot penis slides along her ass cheek, smearing pre-cum on her skin. She reaches behind her, searching for him. He takes her arm into his hand, holds her by the wrist.

“Let me…” There’s no end to his statement, whatever he wanted to say. A moment later, he’s where she wants him the most. Mulder enters her in one swift motion, taking her breath away. He’s draped over her back, covering her. His hands find her breasts as he thrusts in and out.

“Harder,” she says, her face pressed against the fogged up window. Scully no longer cares for anything but his cock pumping into her. “Please,” she adds when he resumes his steady rhythm.

“Impatient, are we?” His voice is raw and amused and so close to her ear. She shivers and arches back into him. He groans and picks up the speed. “I’m not going to last much longer,” he pants into her ear. One of his hands leaves her breasts and wanders to her still sensitive clit. She shudders as he touches her. It won’t take long now.

“Come for me, Scully.”

She does. She falls apart, her inner walls grabbing for him and she feels him lose his control and his rhythm. A few more hard thrusts and he is there with her, coming inside her.

“That was…,” he pants, still out of breath. He’s holding her to him as his softening penis slips out of her. They’re going to make a mess and Scully couldn’t care less. Her thigh burn and she thinks she can’t keep upright another second.

“Amazing,” she says, turning around in his arms. Post-coital Mulder is one of her favorite sights. That goofy, satisfied grin and his spiky hair that makes him look adorable. She smoothes it down a bit and he winces.

“You hurt me,” he admits sheepishly. She’s known to grab too much of his hair in the heat of the moment. He’s not once complained.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, smoothing it down some more with careful, soothing touches.

“It was worth it.”

“Let’s go to bed, hm?” He nods and flops down on the bed. Scully quickly goes to the bathroom to clean up and when she returns with a warm wash cloth for Mulder, he’s closed his eyes, grinning from ear to ear. She knows he’s not asleep. She cleans him, too, and he blinks at her through a half opened eye, mouths a thank you.

“That vacation was a good idea, wasn’t it?” he asks when she lies down next to him, draping a blanket over them both. She’s too exhausted to put on clothes. Mulder’s expression promises more naked shenanigans in their future. There’s no use getting dressed.

“It was,” she admits, touching his cheek. “Thank you. But Mulder, you-”

“I know, Scully. Next time I ask you.” He leans over and kisses her on the nose. She scoots closer, wanting to feel him near.

“So no ghosts? I must say I’m almost disappointed.” She snuggles closer into his side, smiling against his naked skin.

“We’re in one of the 13 original states, Scully. Of course they have ghosts here, angry ones. You know, we’re so close to Quebec, we could flee to Canada.”

“And then?”

“Start a new life, obviously.” As if. But she smiles anyway, stroking his chest. She feels sleepy. Listening to Mulder talk, ramble on, makes her feel content.

“You need to tell Skinner about the vacation, Mulder.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Mulder.”

“I’ll call him. We might have to flee to Canada for real if I confess, Scully.”

“You’re crazy, Mulder.” She just wants to sleep now. Who cares about Skinner or ghosts or Canada?

“In my defense,” Mulder nuzzles her neck, “people have been telling you that for years.”

“And yet here I am.” Her eyes are closed, but she’s smiling.

“And yet here you are.” She hears the love in his voice, feels herself being wrapped up in it.


End file.
